


Smile

by MHWK



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: F/M, Post-Divorce, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-08-11 09:26:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7885624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MHWK/pseuds/MHWK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Recently divorced, Hotch feels empty without his son. He finds a void in his life that the team can't fill and that a silent house only makes worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smile

**Author's Note:**

> Wasn't sure if I wanted this to be a one shot or a few chapters, still deciding. I'm currently late in Season 4, so maybe this takes place around then?

Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner. Agent Aaron Hotchner. Aaron Hotchner. Hotchner. Hotch. What was a name… After all this time, what was a name? It was a name and a title that inspired a team, that lead a team. It was a name that was known in the FBI. But at home, it wasn’t a name. It wasn’t an announcement. It was never said. An empty silence was not a name when there used to be someone there to call to him husband and father. What was the purpose of an empty house? An empty life…

“Aaron?” Coffee. Overpriced coffee when he could have gone anywhere. It didn’t happen often, that little want inside him that sought out the normality of human life around him. Life that continued on as if nothing ever happened, as if no one ever died, no one disrupted the casual flow of life.

“Aaron?”

He went to the counter. He hadn’t been paying attention. It was hard to get out of his own head lately. With his coffee in hand he set about to leave and had the eerie feeling of eyes on his back. Normally it came with a hair-raising paranoia, a tension in the shoulders, an unsettling weight, but there in that coffee shop he didn’t feel entirely on edge. 

As he opened the door, he glanced back. A woman caught his eye. Dark hair, dark eyes, but she smiled so pleasantly to him that he quickened his step and departed a little faster than he intended to. A glance through the window and he saw her sit up a little straighter. She knew he was watching, she kept her attention on the computer in front of her. There was still a little smile on her lips. Why would she smile at him? What did she want? What did she know? 

Paperwork at the office had piled up and he sank into it when he arrived. The world was abuzz around him but the last thing he wanted was to listen to it. He had to focus. 

The team came and went, a question here, a comment there. 

“Hotch.” Rossi, poking his head in. “You alright?”

Hotch watched him for a second. “Yeah,” he said. 

Rossi’s eyes narrowed and then he nodded. “Coffee any good from that new place?” 

He’d drank it a long time ago, why had he left the cup on his desk. “It’s coffee,” he replied. 

Rossi smiled, a slight curve of his lips. Hotch wondered if he also tried to disappear into the crowd sometimes. 

Haley had left because he couldn’t be like the people in the crowds. The blissfully unaware. 

Rossi departed. Just outside his office, Prentiss stopped him. She held out something to him, a little slip of paper, a ticket. If Rossi hadn’t closed the door, he would be able to hear the conversation. He assumed that the moment Rossi gave her an affirmative, she would come to his office. Unless she wouldn’t. He didn’t know how he would feel if she did come through that door with whatever she had. He felt indecisive. Part of him wanted to be undisturbed, the other part wanted a reason to be distracted from the silence and the white noise.

Emily knocked on his door and he waved her in. 

“Hey, Hotch,” she said as she eased into the office. “A friend of mine gave me tickets to the grand opening of her theatre tonight. Well, it’s not her theatre, but… anyway, they’re doing a show and then having a kind of… shindig afterward. Her words, not mine.”

“Gathering donors?” he asked.

“I guess. Either way, she had a few tickets tonight and gave them to me in case she knew of anyone as overworked as I was,” Prentiss said.

Hotch’s brow raised. “Her words?” he asked.

“She’s got a… colorful vocabulary,” she suggested. 

“That’s not too colorful,” he replied.

“You haven’t met her,” she smiled. “If there ever was a stereotype for over the top, heart on their sleeves, crazy, actor-types… It’s her. If nothing else, the show should be fun.”

He thought of declining but as he opened his mouth to reject the invitation “Sure,” came out instead. 

Prentiss looked as surprised as he felt. “Yeah?” she asked. 

“Sure,” he said again. He couldn’t back out now. 

Hotch wasn’t expecting them all to go. It was rare that the whole team went out. One reason or another, someone couldn’t make it, but they all met outside the theatre with smiles. It was lit up with new lights on the marquee. The outer facade was repaired. It looked restored rather than updated. The building was older, outdated, but it was a beautiful building nonetheless. They didn’t build them like this anymore. 

Soft carpeting, updated. That was new. The inside was renovated. Framed black and white images of old shows lined the halls. The hall that led into the theatre was crowded. 

“Wow,” Penelope said, “So who is drawing all the attention? I mean, isn’t this a brand new play in a new theatre?”

“The leads were in the Broadway production of ‘ _I Am You’_ ,” Reid said as he looked at the playbill. 

“I Am You?” Morgan asked. 

“A musical about love and reincarnation,” Reid replied. “It ran for about eight months to sold out crowds and became a favorite musical for college and community theatres.”

Prentiss smiled. “Elena wrote that. She said she hated every second of it.”

“She wrote it and she hated it?” Hotch asked.

“Said she felt like a cat being dragged on a leash,” Prentiss chuckled. 

The mental image was immediately in Hotch’s mind. A slight smirk lifted the corner of his lips. He could understand the feeling.

He found his seats with his team, and the lights soon went out. He pondered when the last time was that he had gone to the theatre… Perhaps when Haley was still in classes. Or shortly after… 

The story wasn’t one he had been expecting. A fantastical love story set with mythical creatures. But the adventure had all been in the head of the female lead. At the end of the show, the woman watched the male love interest walk by. He never knew her until the moment she finally introduced herself at the end. 

Drinks and snacks were provided in the foyer. Hotch listened to his team as they praised the show, the acting, the set design. But as excited as they were about it, they analyzed the behavior of the characters. What had been written into it, what had been left out. What of the actors came through the characters and betrayed the scene. Reid had adequately profiled the protagonist. There was simply no escaping the work, even if they wanted to, it was so ingrained in them, in the way they saw everything. 

“It was a great show either way,” Rossi said. 

Applause rose from the crowd around them as a group of men and women entered the room. Out of makeup, the cast looked much different. 

“They didn’t want to come down until I told them there was free food,” he heard and glanced over.

“Elena!” Prentiss grabbed the woman beside her and they tightly embraced one another. When they separated, the recognition was immediate. 

Prentiss introduced the woman to the team, and when she got to him, the woman said, “Hey, Coffee Shop.” She didn’t know his name, she called him where they had seen one another. 

“You know each other?” Rossi asked.

Together, he and Elena said, “Nope.” He watched her. She smiled. 

“Like,” Morgan began. “Really no. Or… I’m a little confused.”

Elena turned to Morgan. She carefully chose her words as she said, “We frequent the same coffee shop.”

“So you talked?” Prentiss asked.

Elena shook her head. “Nah. My head is always buried in my laptop.”

“And I have to get to the office,” Hotch replied. 

“Office,” Elena repeated. She looked between them all and said, “FBI? All of you?” 

Reid nodded. Prentiss hadn’t introduced them by their titles, just by names. For a second, he had been a regular person. A friend of a friend. 

“Well, I did say bring the overworked,” she replied. She excused herself with the promise to return soon and then disappeared into the crowd. 

The wine was cheap, the food was better, and the team was at ease. This was what they had needed. The office had been overbearing, they had been overworked, none of them wanted to admit that. They spoke with cast members and crew as Elena worked on amassing patrons for the theatre. If it wasn’t her theatre, whose was it? All he knew so far was that she was a playwright, and despite what Prentiss had said, she was very capable of appropriately speaking to a room of diverse individuals. 

“Are you going to stand off by yourself all night, Mr. Darcy?” he heard at his side and glanced over to see Elena standing there. He had been so busy watching everyone else that he hadn’t bothered to follow her movement. For the second time, she had snuck up on him. 

“Mr. Darcy?” he asked. He kept his attention off of him. In his peripheral, she wasn’t looking at him either. They both scanned the room. “Who does that make you?”

Hotch took a drink from his wine glass and when she said, “Kitty Bennet, from the Keira Knightley film,” he choked. 

Elena bit back a grin. “Do you need a napkin, Mr. Hotchner?” she asked.

He shook his head and replied, “Please. Aaron.”

“Elena,” she offered and held out her hand. He shook it and she added. “Nice to finally meet you, Coffee Shop.”

He gave her a slight smile and hers only grew. 

“You should smile more,” she said. “It looks good on you.”

And then she set a hand on his back as if to say goodbye and she vanished again. He didn’t get a chance to speak to her again before he and the team drifted out the theatre door. 

“So…” Reid said as they walked to their vehicles. “I am now a proud contributor to the Barden Theatre.”

Penelope laughed. “You’re not the only one! The craziest thing, she never asked anyone for money, not me, not you, not anyone. That Elena, she’s amazing.”

J.J. said, “I think Hotch was the only one that got away with his wallet intact.” They chuckled.

“She didn’t ask me,” he said. 

Prentiss smiled. “She wouldn’t. Elena knows how to pick her battles,” she said.

Rossi laughed. For a second, Hotch felt like he was laughing at him instead of at the situation. 

That night, Hotch went home to his quiet house but slept immediately and slept until it was time to get up in the morning. He went a little early, why, he wasn’t sure. When he got his coffee, he turned and found Elena staring intently at her computer screen. She wore dark glasses. She had worn them at the coffee shop the day before but not at the theatre last night. 

She hadn’t been lying when she said she had her head buried in the screen. She hadn’t noticed he had even arrived. He paused to watch her a second. People moved around them but they seemed frozen in place. And then she looked up. Recognition lit up her face.

“Aaron,” she said. “Good morning.” 

It had been years since anyone had greeted him in such a way. The team may have, but Elena wasn’t part of the team. And she hardly knew him.

“Good morning,” he replied, a little constricted.

She watched him a second and then her head tilted to the left. “Shouldn’t you be running out the door?” she asked.

“I have a few minutes,” he replied.

She motioned to the seat across from her and said, “If you’re not in a rush.”

He sat. There was nothing to talk about. They sat in silence and it didn’t feel strained. It simply was. 

She clicked away on her computer and he watched her expression change from moment to moment. She was entirely engaged in her project and almost seemed to forget he was there. Her jaw clenched and her nose wrinkled and Hotch took a drink to hide his smile. 

Her tongue slipped out between her lips and she looked up, her dark eyes meeting his. Her tongue slowly receded back into mouth and she bit her lip as she chuckled. “Sorry,” she said.

Hotch shook his head. “You’re in your zone,” he said. 

“Reason we hadn’t met before yesterday,” she said.

He looked at her, his eyes narrowed slightly. “Why’d you look up?” he asked.

Elena replied, “Why’d you run away?”

Neither had an answer. 

“What are you working on now?” he asked.

She sighed and shook her head. “I don’t know anymore. I’ll probably scrap this one for now and start another.”

“How long will that other show run at the Barden?” he asked.

“A few weeks. We’re already starting to build for the next one, then we’ll put it…” Her voice trailed off and she looked at him. “You don’t want to hear about that,” she said. 

“I’m actually interested,” he replied. “I met my ex wife in a theatre class in college.”

Elena leaned forward. She crossed her arms on the table. “Ex wife, Mr. Hotchner?” she said.

He took a drink.

A peaceable smile crossed her lips. “Kids? I can see you as a family man.”

“I have a son,” he replied. “Jack.”

“Ex wife?” she asked.

“Work,” he replied. 

Their answers were short, but only because there wasn’t a reason to elaborate. Few words said more than they needed to. 

“You?” he asked.

Elena laughed and sat back in her seat. She put a little distance between them and stretched her arms above her head. “No,” she said. “Never married.”

His head tilted. A question that didn’t need to be asked.

“I uh…” She cleared her throat and leaned forward on the table again. “Ellis Barden. He died the week before our wedding.” 

Another head tilt, a narrowing of his eyes.

Elena gently shrugged her shoulders. “We weren’t married,” she said. “His parents didn’t want to know. No one would tell me.” 

“You named the theatre after him,” Hotch asked.

“Me and two others are equal partners in the theatre. We all loved Ellis,” she said, “it seemed right.” 

Elena looked at her computer and then at his watch. “You’re late, Agent Hotchner,” she said. 

Hotch swore softly and rose to his feet. He wanted to keep talking. Elena was a woman of words, it was obvious in her work, but she didn’t have to say much at all. They could share few words and speak volumes and that was something intriguing. 

He hadn’t moved for a few minutes and she looked at him with a raised brow. She pulled note card from in front of her laptop, scribbled on it, and held it out to him. 

“You should get going,” she said. “The world won’t save itself.” 

He gingerly took the card and left without a goodbye. Out the door, he glanced back and found her staring at the computer once again. He was gone and she was focused again. 

There was someone in the world as distant as he was. He wasn’t sure how to deal with this. 

He read the card. Her name and number in a flowing hand. She spent time on her handwriting. 

Before he knew it, his phone was at his ear and after two rings, he watched her answer hers. 

“This is Elena Mercado,” she replied. 

“Dinner tonight?” he asked.

Her attention snapped to him. They watched each other from opposite sides of the window. Her surprise became a gentle smile. “Sure,” she said softly. “Let me know when you’re free.”


End file.
